


The Killing Joke

by heretoday898



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Supernatural, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angels, Bat Family, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Demons, Dysfunctional Family, Post-Hell, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-06-05 12:03:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6703846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heretoday898/pseuds/heretoday898
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You want to know how I got these scars?” the Joker gave a small nod as his fingers clutched the mobster’s jaw.<br/>“A yellow-eyed demon named Azazel,” Dean remarked as nonchalantly as possible as he moved out of the shadows, watching the Joker’s shoulders go rigid.</p><p>The Joker, formally known by the name Jack Campbell, younger brother of Mary Winchester has been terrorizing Gotham for years.  Dean Winchester fresh out of Hell and back from the year 2014 has some questions that need to be answered.  To bad the only man who can answer them is an uncle he thought was dead but, instead has turned into a psychotic mass murdering clown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this came from, but it's been pretty damn fun to write. 
> 
> Set Season 5 of Supernatural and I have taken some liberties with the timeline because I can't remember how old Dean is during that season or how old he should be in relation to the Batfam. Sam and Cas are going to show up later in the story.
> 
> I have quite a lot of it written already so updates will be frequent as long as nothing crazy happens.
> 
> I do not own these characters and all of the mistakes are my own.

 

**THEN:**

_It had been twenty years, twenty years since Dean has seen or heard of his uncle Jack Campbell.  John had banged on the door in the dead of night, demanding his eldest son to wake up, grab his brother and get in the car.  It was uncle Jack who opened the door instead of Dean.  Uncle Jack, with the same green eyes as Dean turned cold and unyielding on John Winchester’s face.  Dean had crept silently to the top of the stairs, holding a sleeping Sam.  He remembers angry shouts and threats thrown between his father and uncle.  His mom’s death, the yellow-eyed demon, monsters, and hunting were all words blurring together.  Words that barely held any meaning to a young Dean, but still created a sinking sense of dread that spread throughout his body._

_Dean remembers flashing red and blue lights and sirens piercing the air.  He remembers angry screams waking up Sammy and a terrified shout as black smoke poured out of the police officer and into uncle Jack.  But most of all he remembers green eyes turning yellow and his uncle Jack’s voice asking, “why so serious?”_

_Dean never remembers how he made it down the stairs or when he shoved Sam into his father’s arms.  He doesn’t remember the tears streaking down his face as he stands between his uncle and father._

_He remembers the knife.  It’s not some big butcher’s knife; it’s delicate and subtle, easily slipped out from uncle Jack’s sleeve.  Green eyes remain fixed on the knife, but his ears pick up a loud thud followed by a quiet groan and Sam’s wailing sobs.  Dean remembers the crushing need to look behind him and see if his dad and brother are alright.  But a cool, pale hand grasps his chin and yellow eyes are staring into his own.  Uncle Jack’s cheek is pressed against his own, the knife in between them reflecting Dean’s tears._

_“Let’s put a smile on that face,” is breathed against Dean’s cheek.  No pain is felt, only the hot, iron spray of blood as Dean stares, petrified.  The knife slicing cleanly through his uncle’s cheeks, painting a crimson grin as black smoke erupts from the new openings.  Dean doesn’t remember watching the smoke disappear.  He doesn’t remember catching his uncle before he hits the ground.  Dean doesn’t remember the groan his father heaves out signaling his return to consciousness or Sam’s quiet whimpers._

_What Dean does remember with a stunning clarity are glazed green eyes clearing to reveal shattered pieces.  Shattered pieces which slowly fused back together, snuffing out any light they once held.  These eyes stay with Dean in his memories, his nightmares.  It was only after Hell that he began to see them in the mirror._

****

**NOW:**

Dean glanced in the rearview mirror, green eyes resting for a moment of the small knife thrown on the backseat.  The Impala hummed as Metallica played through the speakers and Dean pressed the gas pedal a little harder.  He was making good time without Sam bitching about making stops to rest.  Just under an hour and he’d be at Gotham’s city limits and then a cheap motel and bed.  Dean’s stomach growled in protest and he patted it, silently apologizing for the lack of food.

The last hour passed quickly as Dean heaved a sigh, turning down the radio as he pulled into a shoddy motel with a flickering vacancy sign.  The desk clerk was barely awake as Dean shuffled in, the dawn light pouring over his shoulder.  A room key was handed over and Dean made his way down the hall.  The room itself was dark with chipped wallpaper and bedding that hadn’t been changed since the motel opened.  Dean glanced at the mirror hanging over the dresser, an old crack cutting through his reflection.  Dean turned away wishing he brought Sam with him.

****  
Dean found himself in a diner after he had woken up later that afternoon.  He ordered the biggest, greasiest burger and tucked into it with gusto as soon as it was placed in front of him.  As Dean ate he glanced around taking in the other patrons.  The diner was relatively quiet for a Sunday afternoon, a few old timers, a mother and two sons, and a trio of dark haired guys sitting with their backs to the walls.  Dean was sitting in the opposite corner of them, eyes flickering every once and a while to the broad shoulders and sharp eyes.

Dean had heard of the vigilantes that roamed Gotham at night and protected the city.  He’d done his research on them too, Sam had insisted and for once Dean agreed with his brother.  Especially with the reason Dean had for visiting the city.  That being said, maybe it wasn’t so strange here in Gotham to see three built and intense looking guys sitting vigilant in a diner.  He focused back on his meal, missing the way three sets of calculating eyes slid over his form.

****

Night fell and Dean remembered why he adamantly hated cities.  A cold bitter wind whipped through the streets, the tall buildings acting as a funnel.  Dean pulled his collar up as he braced himself against the unforgiving wind.  Standing in the shadows on the docks wasn’t helping either.  But Dean had heard a deal was going down with some shipment being smuggled in.  So here Dean was, standing in the shadows, gun tucked into his waist and his knives in their sheaths.  The slim dagger tucked up against his left forearm.  Dean was here for one reason and that was to find a way to contact the Joker.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, alerting Dean to a new presence as a shadow moved out of the corner of his eye.  Dean stiffened, holding still within his own shadow as the Batman dropped down silently followed by two smaller forms, one in green and the other in red.  The two Robins snaked back into the shadows after receiving a silent command.  Batman’s head tilted in Dean’s direction before he too silently moved back into the shadows. 

It was a thing of beauty to watch.  Dean wished he could dispatch monsters as easily as the Bats dispatched criminals.  The brawl was winding down as sirens could be heard coming closer.  Dean had a slim window of opportunity if he wanted to get any information tonight.  For once luck seemed to be on his side as a man came barreling towards him, huffing out pained grunts.  Dean stepped out of the shadows wrapping the large man in a chokehold.  He quickly dragged the man back against the building, squatting down in front of the red faced criminal.

“Just a quick question buddy then I’ll let you pass out,” Den whispered, flashing a smile.

“Where can I find the Joker?” Dean asked eyebrows rising as hysterical laughter forced its way out of the beaten man.

“Look man, whatever the Joker did to you, just let it go.  That’s one brand of crazy that no one is ever gonna be able to fix without a bullet to the head,” the guy winced through his busted lip.

“Yeah, wasn’t actually looking for an opinion just a location,” Dean rolled his eyes.

“You won’t be able to kill him, never mind Red Hood wanting that for himself, the clown is beyond crafty and merciless,” the thug sneers, regaining his breath.

“Maybe I don’t want to kill him, maybe I just want to talk,” Dean responds with a sly smile.

“No good has ever come of talking with the Joker, but it’s your funeral.  If you really want to meet him, I hear he’s going to be setting a nice little trap for the lovely heroes of this city in one of the warehouses near Crime Alley,” the thug told Dean as footsteps made their way towards them.

“Thanks,” Dean smirked as he heaved the man out of the shadows and into an unsuspecting police officer whose name tag read Grayson.  Dean hightailed it through the docks, hearing a few shouts demanding he stop, but his legs kept pumping.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are my own and I do not own any of these characters.
> 
> I couldn't remember if John and Mary got engaged or if they were just planning on running away together, but for this they were engaged at the time of Azazel's possession of Sam Campbell.  
> Also, there will be much more in depth discussions of the boys life and their history between them and the batfamily which is why it may seem like I glossed over the general information. The boys info would be only what the FBI/cops had on file.

Dick cuffed the low level thug as he called after the other man, alerting his fellow officers.  They wouldn’t be able to catch the man; Dick knew that as he read the man in front of him his rights. 

“Want to tell me where your friend is heading?” Dick casually asked as he hauled the man to his feet and started walking back to the others.

“Not my friend, the guy jumped me out of nowhere asking questions about where to find the Joker,” the criminal grumbled, making Dick pause.

“And what did you tell him?” Dick asked, not really expecting an answer.

They approached the back of a police van, as Dick shoved the man inside he heard a muttered, “like hell I’m telling you cop.” 

“But you told the guy who asked?” Dick sighed as he looked at the man.

“Sure did, no reason not to.  Guy claimed he just wanted to talk to the Joker and anyways what’s one more body in the river,” the thug cracked a grin, wincing as his lip started to bleed anew.

Dick glared as he firmly shut the doors to the van; he needed to talk to Bruce.

****

Bruce was sitting at the computer in the Cave with his cowl pushed back and hands steepled under his chin as Dick approached.  Leaning against the table, Dick waited as Bruce finished scanning through the files glowing on the screens.

“There’s a deal between the Joker and the mob happening on Friday down at one of the abandoned warehouses,” Dick said.

“I know,” replied Bruce as he moved to pull up the information that had been gathered so far.

“Great, awesome, but did you know there’s some guy running around looking for the Joker?” Dick asked, arching his eyebrows.

Cool blue eyes flickered up at Dick as Bruce quickly pulled up the CCTV video of the docks.  Bruce quickly went through the video up until the moment the man ran away as Dick cuffed the thug.  Both vigilantes watched as the man ran through the docks until he popped up on a side street and hopped into a classic black car.  Bruce zoomed in on the license plate and started running a scan through the database.  Files from the FBI database popped up just as Dick heard the sound of Tim and Damien approaching.  He turned and gave a quick grin to his brothers earning a tired smile from Tim and a scowl from Damien. 

“So what have we got?” Dick asked turning back to the screens.  What he saw was a laundry list of misdemeanors and felonies all accompanied by the mug shot of a handsome man who has been pronounced dead on multiple occasions.      

“Dean Winchester,” Tim murmured as the heroes continued to take in the massive amount of data gathered on the man and his brother Samuel. 

“No sign of Sam?” Tim asked, glancing at Dick. 

A quick negative shake of Dick’s head answered the question, but it didn’t mean the other man wasn’t in Gotham.

“That is quite a rap sheet on the man.  Credit card fraud, impersonating a federal agent, grave desecration, burglary, murder, and apparently he has been declared legally dead more than once.  Please tell me he isn’t after the Joker because he wants to join the clown,” Dick groaned before turning to look at Bruce.

Sharp blue eyes were focused on the mug shot of Dean Winchester.  Bruce pulled up an early image of the Joker without his grease paint and put it next to the image of Dean.  Dick felt the color leach from his face as he took in the two faces. 

“Holy shit, you think they’re related,” Dick said, his voice ghosting through the silent cavern.

“That’s not possible.  We could never find anything on the Joker, no past, no family, nothing,” Tim said as he stared at the two sets of green eyes. 

“Father?” Damien’s voice brought Dick and Tim’s attention back to the Dark Knight.

Bruce’s jaw was clenched, lips thin and bloodless as his eyes bored into the images on the screen.  Dick’s hand twitched towards his mentor before falling to his side.  He watched as Bruce pulled up all the files of information on the Winchester brothers, the FBI was thorough when it came to documenting the brothers’ crimes.  Dick was reading the page Bruce had brought up concerning the Winchester’s parents, John Winchester and Mary Winchester maiden name Campbell.  They were a beautiful couple, John dark and Mary light, her green eyes matching the ones in her son’s mug shot. 

“Did the mother have any siblings?” Tim spoke up, blue eyes still scanning the files. 

“Mary Campbell.  Daughter of Samuel and Deanna Campbell with a younger brother Jack Campbell,” Damian responded.

“The Campbell parents were murdered around the time John and Mary got engaged.  Mary Winchester died in a house fire when Dean was four and Sam still and infant.  John Winchester was recently confirmed deceased after Dean woke up from a coma.  Jack Campbell disappears from records after the death of his sister,” Dick continued reading the different reports over his mentor’s shoulder.  Dick let out a low whistle as he took in the information, death surrounded this family. 

“So are we working under this theory that Jack Campbell is in fact the Joker?” Tim asked looking at Bruce. 

“We’ve never had a lead on him and this, all this information, even if it’s mostly on the Winchesters, it opens up a lot of doors,” Dick said, glancing over at Bruce. 

Bruce’s eyes did not waver from the screens.  The Dark Knight’s shoulders were taught, jaw rigid as he scrolled through the information.  Dick knew Bruce wouldn’t be getting any sleep this week, not with a case like this.  The possible collateral damage was to great. 

“There has to be something missing though,” Tim began, “losing one’s family doesn’t mean you turn into a psychotic clown with an affinity for mass murder.”

“People usually don’t dress up as a giant bat and seek vigilante justice after losing one’s family either, but stranger things have been known to happen,” Alfred deadpanned as he set down a tray full of food.

Dick barely suppressed a flinch, he would never get used to how quietly the old man could move.  But that didn’t matter, Dick’s stomach growled as the smell of food wafted up from the tray.  Both Tim and Dick chuckled at the butler’s comment while Damian scowled much like his father as the boy reached for some food. 

“As for what could possibly be missing, sometimes it is best to look at one’s _modus operandi_ in order to gain some enlightenment,” Alfred remarked.   

“But we know how the Joker usually operates, total and absolute chaos,” Dick said, eyebrows crinkled in confusion.

“He means the Winchesters,” Damian huffed, earning a swat from Dick.

All four men studied the files on the computer screens, eyes tracing police reports, witness accounts, and newspaper articles.

“The killings start before the Winchesters arrive and they stop around the time they leave.  They’re always moving almost like they are hunting for specific patterns,” Tim stated after he began to notice the brothers’ own pattern.

“Precisely, what could they possibly be hunting?” Alfred mused.

“Hunting,” Bruce muttered, eyes flashing with recognition. 

The Dark Knight’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he pulled up a folder labeled “John Constantine”.  Within the folder was a list of known associates to the Hellblazer and at the bottom of the list was a crossed out “John Winchester – Hunter”. 

“Great, they deal in the supernatural, now what?” Dick groaned.

“Clearly Master Richard, not everything about these men is as it seems,” Alfred stated with a long look in Bruce’s direction.

 “What’s important now is determining how the Joker will react with the emergence of Dean Winchester and what it means for Gotham,” Bruce stated, eyes shifting as he began calculating all the possible scenarios.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments or Kudos!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the comments and kudos! Also sorry for not posting quicker (went to see Cap 3 three days in a row)  
> I forgot to add the Batfam using facial recognition software in the last chapter to show Dean and Joker being related, it's mentioned briefly in this one so just pretend it happened
> 
> As always all mistakes are my own and I do not own these characters.

Dick was crouching on the edge of a roof as he watched Jason systematically beat through a group of men who had been attacking a pair of teenage girls.  Dick would’ve helped but, as he watched the last man fall to Red Hood’s fists he figured it would be better to let Jason calm down a bit before approaching the other man.  The two girls were shaking and clutching each other as Jason made his way over to them after zip trying the last assailant.  Dick couldn’t hear what was said, but he knew the girls wouldn’t be going out unprepared again any time soon.

Dick launched himself off the rooftop after the girls made their way down the street and out of sight.  Landing in front of Jason, Dick noticed his little brother tense almost imperceptibly.  Dick smothered a sigh threatening to escape.  Things were going pretty good between them, certainly much better than a few years ago and Jason was doing his best not to outright kill anyone, but that didn’t mean Red Hood was coming around for family gatherings anytime soon. 

“What do you want Big Bird?” Jason asked body slightly turned away from Dick.

“Just giving you a heads up,” Dick gave his brother a cheerful grin.

 “I thought B only spoke in thinly veiled threats,” Jason drawled as he turned to fully face Dick.

“Only when it comes to you,” Dick snorted, “but seriously, there’s a new player in town and he’s going after the Joker.  We don’t really know what for just yet and we need more information on the man and his intentions.”

“Please tell me this isn’t a recruitment pitch,” Jason gave a brittle laugh. 

“It involves the Joker, just figured you would want in,” Dick stated tilting his head to study the other man.  Jason’s gear was looking a little worse for wear, red helmet scuffed and dull.

“There’s a deal going down between Joker and the mob on Friday, I assume your new ‘player’ will be there?” Jason said.  

“Yes we know and yes he’s going to be there, unless he finds the Joker sooner,” Dick stated, levelling a look at Jason. 

“Alright Golden Boy I’ll bite, who’s the guy and what does he want?” Jason let out a mocking sigh.

“Dean Winchester, we think he’s the Joker’s nephew,” Dick answered.

Jason’s shoulders jerked back, leather jacket creaking at the sudden movement.  Dick wished he didn’t have the helmet on, wished he could see the effect this was having on his little brother’s psyche.  But the helmet was firmly in place and Jason had mastered his body language quickly after the initial shock.  For all intents and purposes, Dick could have been looking at a mannequin in that moment, Jason’s movements to precise to seem like only he had control of them. 

“How’d B come up with that conclusion? Cause last I heard there was never any information on the Joker,” Jason asked after a moment of strained silence.

Dick internally grimaced at the livid growl of Jason’s voice.  He had a sudden soul crushing vision of Jason sliding back into the ways of his early days after the Lazarus Pit.  Dick couldn’t begin to fathom how deep Jason’s wrath ran when it came to the Joker, but, he knew there was nothing on Earth that would stop Red Hood from exacting his revenge; it was just a matter of time. 

“Similarities in their facial structures, specifically the eyes was the first tip off.  B used the facial recognition software comparing Winchester’s mug shot to the Joker’s and well, we got a little more confirmation out of that,” Dick said wearily.   

“I guess it’s not a surprise that someone related to the Joker would have a record, huh,” Jason sneered. 

“Yeah, it’s a pretty extensive one too, but it isn’t exactly what you think,” Dick rubbed the back of his neck.  Jason’s hand made a quick, furious motion for him to continue.

“There’s evidence that points to Winchester hunting or at the very least coming in contact with the supernatural,” Dick’s mouth twisted into a grimace. 

Jason’s helmet clad head dropped to his chest, shoulders caving in as he sighed in annoyance.  Dick chuckled a bit, yeah, Gotham just kept getting better and better at attracting weirdos.  Dick eyed Jason as he straightened back up, he took a gamble telling the other vigilante this.  On one hand they needed all the help they could get when it came to gathering information, but Jason was never one for subtlety or restraint.  On the other hand, well, Dick could pretty much guarantee anything involving Jason and the Joker would end in a blood bath. 

“So, what’s his name?” Jason asked head turned to gaze across Gotham’s skyline.

“Jack Campbell,” Dick answered after a pause.  He didn’t pretend to not know what Jason was asking. 

“Where is Winchester staying?” Jason demanded, head snapping around as he showed no other outward reaction to learning the Joker’s real name.

“That awful 70s motel near Crime Alley, why, what are you going to do?” Dick narrowed his eyes.

“Relax Dickiebird, I’m just going to talk to him,” Dick could hear the sleek smirk spread across Jason’s lips.

“Please,” Dick snorted, eyeing the second Robin.  Jason sighed and shook his head at Dick’s distrust.

“I just need to make sure him being here isn’t going to trigger the Joker into doing something more catastrophic than normal,” Jason said.

“Funny, B said the same thing,” Dick grinned at Jason’s appalled look before quickly dodging the punch thrown in his direction.

“He’s not there right now, B has been keeping tabs on him and apparently he went into the library about an hour ago,” Dick informed his brother.

Jason nodded and started to head in the direction of Gotham’s public library.  Dick followed him with his eyes until Jason’s silhouette disappeared into the shadows that engulfed Gotham.  He would be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased that Jason was open to working with him, it had been a long time since their interactions weren’t fraught with rage and guilt. 

********

Demons were congregating in Gotham.  The hairs on the back of Dean’s neck stood on end as he continued to flip through newspaper articles documenting the freak electrical storms occurring over the past few months.  He needed to find out what was drawing them here.  Dean groaned, rubbing his face as he glanced around the deserted library.  It was going to be difficult, trying to sort out the human whack jobs from the monsters.  Dean’s head hit the table, he hated cities.

“That kind of day?” a dark haired man in a red mask grinned down at Dean before sliding a chair out and taking the seat across from the hunter.

“Never been one for research,” Dean muttered, eyeing the man across from him.

He was tall, broad shouldered with dark hair that had a streak of white in the front and a hard glint in his blue-green eyes.  Dean liked him, which meant there was no way in hell he was trusting him.

“Seems like every day is ‘that kind of day’,” Dean smirked at the man.  He gets a crooked grin in response as the stranger casually pulls Dean’s notes across the table. 

“Can I help you with something?” Dean asks incredulously.  The hunter reaches to grab his information back, stilling at the sound of a gun being cocked.

“Really man, we’re in a library,” Dean hisses, chest still leaning across the table.

Cold, sharp eyes flicker up to meet Dean.

“At least tell me there’s a silencer on the thing,” Dean mumbles, slumping back in his chair.

A full grin and arched eyebrows are quickly wiped off the man’s face as Dean settled himself.

“So the problem isn’t the threat of the gun and I’m not going to even ask why you’re not surprised or worried that a gun has been pulled on you in the middle of a library.  You just want to make sure no one else is traumatized,” the masked man cocks his head to the side, regarding Dean.

“You sound surprised.  Although why shouldn’t you be seeing as how you seem to have no problem with the possibility of traumatizing innocent people,” Dean said.

“They’re not all innocent,” eyes flashed quickly before looking back at Dean’s notes.

“So, demons,” the man said with a cynical curl of his lips.

“So, masked vigilantes, aliens, and metahumans,” Dean responded earning a snort from his companion.

“It’s Dean Winchester, right?” the man asked, eyes saying he well knew who he was talking to.

“Red Hood, although it’s a helmet not a hood, but, hey, to each their own,” Dean grinned as his eyes travelled the vigilante’s combat gear, lingering on the red bat symbol splashed across the chest.

“I need to know why you’re looking for the Joker,” Hood said, leaning back casually gun still trained on Dean.

“Sorry man can’t help you.  I’m actually looking into your demon problem that seems to be growing,” Dean responded after a slight pause.

Red Hood’s lip curled up as his eyes flashed.  The vigilante was suddenly in Dean’s face, gun above the table pressed against Dean’s temple.

“I don’t give two fucks about some demon problem pretty boy.  The Joker is the real monster this city has to deal with and I need to know if you being here is going to send him on a rampage,” Red Hood snarled, gun still steady against Dean’s temple.

Dean let silence ring through the library as he looked at the man in front of him.  He was younger than Dean, but no less world weary and bitter while wielding a mask comprised of a cocksure attitude and charm.  Yeah, Dean liked the kid.

“You should care, a demon is what made Jack Campbell into the Joker,” Dean said, eyes grave.

Dean watched as Red Hood’s eyes widened behind his mask at the use of the Joker’s real name.

“I’m not stupid you know, you think I don’t know you heroes would’ve done some research on me.  Especially when you found out I was looking into the Joker,” Dean gave a wry grin. 

“What happened to the Joker is no excuse for the mass slaughter he brings to this city,” Red Hood snarled at Dean, body coiled and ready to spring.

“I am not making excuses for what he has done,” Dean snapped back, leaning forward to get into the vigilante’s face, “you just need to understand that possession doesn’t sit kindly with everyone and sometimes the things those bastards make you see, trust me, it would drive anyone insane.”

“Trust you, a wanted felon with a list of crimes to your name that would make some of the criminal’s here blanch,” Red Hood shot Dean a condescending smirk.

 “When it comes to the supernatural, yeah, you better trust me if you want to survive,” Dean ground out.

“And what makes you such an expert?” Red Hood scoffed, eyes glaring at Dean.

“Well having an angel ‘grip me tight and raise me from Perdition’ might give me a leg up on some other people,” Dean shot the vigilante a pert smile.

“Isn’t Perdition another name for Hell?” Red Hood asked giving Dean a suspicious look and to Dean’s surprise completely ignoring the word angel.

“I don’t know man, is it?” Dean flashed a patronizing smile.

“You’re going to sit there and tell me you’ve come back from Hell,” Hood was giving him a calculating look.  The hairs on the back of Dean’s neck started to rise again as the other man continued to look at him.

“Crawled out of my own grave and everything,” Dean remarked with a shrug and smug smirk. 

This wasn’t going how Dean had planned.  Usually people scoffed in disbelief at the slightest mention of resurrection or immediately declared that someone was crazy but Red Hood was doing none of these things.  Dean’s fingers twitched for a weapon, he did not like the look he was receiving from the Red Hood.  The man’s body was wrung tighter than a bow string, gun still poised above the table and pointed at Dean.  It looked like the man was reliving a memory; blue-green eyes latched onto Dean’s face but focused somewhere else, somewhere dark and empty.      

“Look, I get that you want to kill the Joker, believe me I do, but I need information from him first,” Dean said, staring intently at the dark haired man.

Dean watched as haze cleared from the Red Hood’s eyes once he blinked a few times.  Oh yeah, the kid had definitely remembering something unpleasant and Dean could admit he was rather intrigued.  After all, if anyone could relate to what he and Sam go through it would be these hero types, right? 

“Oh, if you do end up killing him, make sure you salt and burn his body, you do not want him coming back as anything worse than what he already is,” Dean shuddered at the thought as he picked up his notes and left an addled and prostrate Red Hood. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment or Kudos!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! 
> 
> As always all mistakes are my own and I do not own these characters.

Dick wasn’t surprised when Jason entered the cave later that night, or was it early the next morning.  Damian, Tim, and Bruce were back from patrol by the time Dick had entered and Jason was there by the time Alfred had placed a tray of food down with a stern reminder to get some sleep before making a silent exit.  What surprised Dick wasn’t the helmetless head or the lack of blood stains on his brother’s jacket but the vacant almost haunted look the younger man possessed.  Eyes staring off into the darkness of the cave as he mechanically put food into his mouth.  Unfortunately, Dick wasn’t the only one to notice this odd behavior. 

“What the hell is the matter with you Todd?” Damian snapped his nose crinkled in disgust.  Dick sighed, shooting Damian a reproachful look which went wholly ignored as the child went back to cleaning his weapons.  

“I received information from Constantine,” Bruce stated, head cocked to the side as he eyed Jason.

“He actually answered,” Tim snorted in disbelief.  Bruce ignored the teen as he moved to pull up the new files of information on the Winchesters. 

“Did he say anything about them or just send you information?” Dick asked, noting Jason’s curiously guarded stare as the younger vigilante stared at the mug shot of Dean Winchester that Bruce had pulled up.

“Does a string of expletives followed by a recommendation of getting Winchester the hell out of the city count for anything,” Bruce said, blue eyes flinty. 

“That does not bode well,” Damian muttered as he continued to methodically clean his blade.    

“He’s claimed to have died and been resurrected,” Jason spoke up, snapping out of whatever haze he had been under.

Four sets of varying blue eyes turned to look at Jason.  Dick watched as Jason glared at them under the scrutiny, shifting his weight ever so slightly as he waited for a confrontation.  Jason’s eyes flickered over to Dick, losing some of their belligerence as Dick gave him a supportive nod. 

“Constantine’s information corroborates that,” Bruce said, eyes back on the files on the screen. 

“What?” Dick asked, surprise lacing his voice.

“Oh come on Dickie, it’s not like this is the first time you’ve heard of something like this happening,” Jason snapped, venom and condescension dripping from his voice.

“Enough,” Bruce growled, sharp eyes searing into Dick and Jason.  Dick rolled his eyes as Jason’s flared back to life with hostility.  

“What? Don’t like being reminded of your failures,” Jason sneered. 

Everyone tensed; Damian was red in the face with his shoulders rigid and ready for confrontation.  The boy’s mouth opened but Bruce quickly cut him off, shooting the youngest Robin a hard look.  Tim’s stance had subtly shifted giving him a more defensive and steady position which he held even as Damian attempted to calm his breathing.  Dick scrutinized Jason, he shouldn’t have let the younger man go after Winchester alone it was obvious whatever conversation passed between the two men had left Jason rattled. 

“Jaybird, what happened between you and Winchester?” Dick asked softly, he needed to know, for Jason’s sake.

“Nothing happened,” Jason denied instantly, face shuttered. 

“Fine then, what information do you have to report,” Bruce said, ignoring Dick’s disapproving glare.

Dick listened intently as Jason reported on his conversation with Winchester.  Jason didn’t know why the man was looking for the Joker and he didn’t fully believe Winchester was telling the truth about demons being in Gotham.  Dick quietly disagreed, at this point in his life and with everything he has seen why wouldn’t there be demons in Gotham. 

Bruce’s gaze narrowed as Jason told them about Jack Campbell having been possessed by a demon.  Dick couldn’t help but wonder if one of those demons Winchester claimed were in Gotham was the same one that possessed the Joker.  Jason’s eyes became distracted again as he brought up Winchester’s death and apparent revival.  This was the main source of turmoil for Jason, Dick just didn’t understand why.     

“Constantine does not know why Dean Winchester would be looking for the Joker and as far as I can tell he has no knowledge of the Joker having been possessed when he was Jack Campbell,” Bruce said after a tense moment following Jason’s revelations. 

“I think it’s pretty safe to assume that Constantine and John Winchester did not get along,” Tim scoffed.

“Agreed.  He did mention that he has never seen this much demonic activity and from what he has gleamed, Dean Winchester’s death caused an uproar,” Bruce stated. 

“He said an angel brought him back.  How the fuck are we supposed to do any justice in this world if angels are bringing back fucking psychopaths who happen to be related to even bigger mass murdering sadistic psychopaths and yet some malicious bitch with an obsession with Bruce felt the need to bring me back,” Jason demanded, blue-green eyes flashing with rage and anguish.

“Do not speak about my mother that way,” Damian shrieked, body flying at Jason, sword raised and ready to strike. 

Bruce’s gauntleted hand snapped out restraining Damian.  Jason had one of his guns raised and pointed directly in between Damian’s eyes.  The vigilante’s face was white and stricken, his hand steady on the gun even if his knuckles were white and bloodless.  The sense of foreboding Dick felt when he spoke with Jason earlier came back tenfold.  Dick couldn’t fathom what Jason must be thinking, feeling.  The supernatural was always an anomaly to them; something they knew existed but had very little knowledge of outside of their contact sources like Constantine.  Things like magic and the mystical always challenged the logic and justness which Dick and the other heroes of Gotham tried so hard to idealize.   

 “I did not ask to be brought back, I didn’t ask for the insanity that has come with it and something tells me Winchester didn’t either,” Jason’s voice shook.  Dick couldn’t tell with what, it was a tossup between fury and terror. 

“No, you’re right, I don’t think Winchester expected to be resurrected either,” Bruce spoke standing between Jason and Damian. 

“Apparently the man sold his soul, at least according to Constantine,” Bruce stated. 

“What? Why would anyone do that?” Tim asked, appalled.

“To bring his younger brother back to life,” Bruce uttered.  

****

The cave had been silent and remained silent for hours after Bruce’s revelation about the Winchester brothers.  Dick couldn’t help but be grateful that Bruce had not known about demon deals when Jason was murdered.  He knew Bruce felt immensely guilty about what happened to Jason.  Jason was right, he was Bruce’s ultimate failure.  Now they were going to have to face the past.  A past Bruce never wants to acknowledge and one Jason relies on for justification.  Dick wondered how death affected the Winchester brother’s relationship.  Were they closer after Dean’s sacrifice, was the relationship more strained?  Dick’s eyes traveled over Jason as the other man glared morosely into the darkness of the cave. 

 “You know it’s a trap,” Dick said into the quiet, eyes steady on his mentor.

“Yes and I need you and Jason to spring it,” Bruce spoke over his shoulder, ignoring Dick’s petulant groan.

“What the hell, why?” Jason growled doing an unknowingly good impression of Batman that forced Dick to restrain a chuckle.

“You won’t be perceived as too much of a threat once you’ve been restrained and the Joker will want me to watch you die so he won’t kill you immediately,” Bruce mused as he scanned the layout of the warehouse.

“And once Winchester makes himself known you really think Joker’s going to be paying much attention to you two,” Tim said flippantly.

“Well, seems like we are going to have a card up our sleeve for once,” Damian said with a small curl of his lips.

“Winchester is not an ally.  He is as much a chaotic force as the Joker,” Bruce growled.

“Only if everything Constantine said about him is true,” Dick noted.

“Constantine doesn’t have the tendency to lie outright just withhold very specific and usually critical information,” Bruce remarked with a contemptuous look.

“Which doesn’t bode well when the information he did offer up seems pretty substantial,” Jason remarked matching Bruce’s look with a sardonic smile.

Bruce didn’t even bother with any form of acknowledgment to Jason’s comment; he knew how badly this could blow up in their faces.  Dick just hoped this Winchester guy knew a monster when he saw one.

****

The warehouse was relatively clean with a few crates stacked high along the walls.  Dean peered out from behind a set of crates watching as Nightwing and Red Hood silently entered the building.  Dean grimaced, none too pleased with seeing the vigilantes.  He didn’t need any more problems than the ones he knew he was going to be facing already.  The Joker hadn’t even shown up yet and the warehouse was already too busy for Dean’s liking.  With the addition of the vigilantes, Dean was also dealing with the mob and Joker’s clowns.  He moved back into the shadows of the crates piled high, eyes and ears alert.

****

“I cannot believe we have to let these dumbasses get the drop on us,” Jason grouched as he shifted in the shadows.  Dick rolled his eyes, but silently agreed with the younger man, it was not going to be easy. 

They made themselves known to the criminals by silently dropping down into the middle of the warehouse, effectively surrounding themselves by mobsters and clowns.  Out of principle Dick beat a few of the men unconscious, he couldn’t make it look to easy after all.  Dick knew Jason felt the same way as shots rang out followed by grunts and the dull thuds of bodies hitting the warehouse floor.    

Dick allowed for one of his escrima sticks to be knocked out of his hand while the other he effectively tossed at one of the clowns.  It didn’t take long after that for one of the mobsters to wise up and point a gun at his head.  Dick grunted as he was forced to his knees, a gun resting firmly against his skull.  Jason was still fighting, blood and sweat flying from the men he dispatched with lethal precision.  It wasn’t until a slow clapping accompanied by a manic laugh erupted from the shadows of the warehouse that Jason’s body stilled and the remaining clowns and mobsters beat him to his knees.

The Joker emerged out of the shadows, the purple suit and green hair muted by the dull moonlight trickling in through the broken windows of the warehouse.  The Clown Prince of Crime’s smeared red lips was stretched into an unrestrained grin as he approached Dick and Jason.  Violent pleasure danced in the mad man’s green eyes as he took in the two heroes.  Dick’s mind flashed to another pair of green eyes, ones he had only seen in police images over the past few days. 

“Tie them up,” Joker snapped.  Dick and Jason struggled as the clown henchmen dragged them off to the side and quickly restrained the heroes. 

“Alright Joker, we don’t have a lot of time before the Bat shows up, where’s the drug shipment?”  Dick heard one of the mobsters ask.

The Joker twirled around to face the man, head cocked to the side, grin widening. 

“Sorry boys, that’s not in the cards today,” Joker chuckled as the criminal’s face grew red and flustered.

“Joker! We had a deal,” the man sputtered striding forward to grab the clown. 

The Joker barely moved as the man grabbed him.  Only the smooth slide of his hand into one of the many pockets adorning his purple jacket told the fate of the mobster.  Dick’s jaw tightened as the man’s body hit the ground with a sickening thud, blood pooling in a crown around his head from where his throat was opened.

“When will you people understand that until the Batman and his sidekicks are out of the way we will never truly have a free Gotham,” the Joker observed, eyes sliding over Dick and Jason in a sickeningly tender manner.

“Here we have two of his loyal little birdies all trussed up and ready to be sacrificed.  We just need to wait for the main attraction and Gotham will be rid of the Bat,” Joker’s eyes danced with elation, the knife in his hand still stained and dripping with blood.   

****

“Why are we listening to this maniac again?” one mobster asked, spit flying from his mouth as he gestured at the Joker, his back turned to the clown. 

Dean winced from his position in the shadows as a shot rang out and the mobster gasped clutching his shoulder.  One of the Joker’s henchmen lowered his gun as the clown slowly made his way around the wounded criminal.    

“You want to know how I got these scars?” the Joker gave a small nod as his fingers clutched the mobster’s jaw.

“A yellow-eyed demon named Azazel,” Dean remarked as nonchalantly as possible as he moved out of the shadows, watching the Joker’s shoulders go rigid.

“Cause I sure as hell know it wasn’t because your father was a drinker or that you had some pretty girl who liked to gamble,” Dean continued, drawing all eyes to him, the wounded mobster quickly crawling away.

There was a beat of silence before the mobsters and clowns let out howls of laughter, casting disbelieving looks at Dean.  Dean ignored them, has been ignoring people like them his whole life.  Instead he kept his eyes trained on the approaching Joker.  The clown came to a halt in front of him, close enough that Dean could make out the dull paint smell of his makeup, but not the clowns eye color it was still too dark in the warehouse for that.

“Lights,” the Joker snapped out as if reading Dean’s mind.

Silence descended again as one of the henchmen jumped to do the Joker’s bidding.  The harsh industrial lights flickered to life illuminating the Joker’s scarred face and wide green eyes.  Dean knew those eyes and apparently so did the Joker as Dean watched recognition flash across his painted features.  Dean heard the quiet shuffle of approaching feet as he continued to stare at the Joker.

“Boss, you okay?” one of the braver clowns asked.

Dean spared the man a quick glance only for the Joker’s voice to crack through the warehouse.

“Look at me,” he snarled.  Dean slowly turned his eyes back to the Clown Prince of Crime.

“Why so serious?” Dean said.

The Joker visibly startled causing Dean’s mouth to quirk up.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist.  Heard you had the tendency to ask that question which I think is rather creepy seeing as you weren’t the one to ask it in the first place,” Dean remarked, smirk gone from his face.

“Well, it was your voice and mouth but, uh, not you you, more like you possessed by the yellow-eyed demon you,” Dean rambled a little before snapping his mouth shut.

Dean startled as a gloved hand slowly traveled up his arm, firmly clutching his shoulder before moving up to his face.  The smooth fabric of the glove trailed a line from the top of one cheek across Dean’s lips to the opposite cheek before moving to cup his head.

****

Dean woke tied to a chair, the lights above casting a harsh glare on his sweaty form.  A table was in front of him with all of Dean’s weapons laid out on it, the knife lying in the middle being caressed by purple gloved fingers.  As Dean’s brain muddled through the fog he could hear Red Hood growling obscenities through his gag, Dean briefly wondered what happened to the kid’s helmet.  Nightwing was bound next to Red Hood, gagged mouth shut as he tried to wiggle out of his bindings.  The Joker’s henchmen were spread out around the warehouse, shifting uneasily as their boss kept silent.

Dean’s eyes flickered back to the man sitting across from him, noticing that the strolling had stopped once Dean became fully awake.  Green eyes travelled up the purple and green ensemble until they landed on the painted face.  The Joker’s mouth was set in a cruel smile; scars making it seem wider than natural.  Dean’s green eyes flickered between the knife and the scars before rising to meet the Joker’s stare.  Unlike the cruel shape of his mouth, the Joker’s eyes were alight with anticipation as they bounced around taking in all of Dean.

Silence reigned throughout the warehouse, even Red Hood had stopped making threats through his gag.  Dean didn’t know where to start now that he’d gotten here and it didn’t seem like the Joker was ready to break the silence which went against what Dean had heard of the man.  The Joker leaned forward and picked the knife up off the table, holding it delicately as a manic grin stretched over his face.

“Hello Bats,” the Joker hissed out, eyes scanning the darkness over Dean’s shoulder. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments or Kudos!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this another chapter already! The next one's going is a week out but it will have Sam and Cas :)
> 
> As always all mistakes are my own and I do not own these characters.

“Joker,” Batman’s gravelly voiced rumbled out.

 The henchmen shifted uncomfortably, Red Hood and Nightwing were silent.  Dean assumed Robin and Red Robin were somewhere in the vicinity, keeping vigil.

“Yeah, can we not do this now guys,” Dean grinned charmingly, eyes hard as they moved between hero and villain.

Batman stalked forward towards the table causing the Joker to stand, knife sliding into his hand. 

“Easy now Batsy, can’t we just have a friendly conversation?” the Joker smirked, tongue sliding over his lips.

“What’s the meaning of this Joker?” Batman asked, eyes never leaving the clown.

“It was going to be a beautiful joke, one for the ages and it was going to go up with a bang,” the Joker crowed.  “Our resident heroes all strung up, the big bad Bat would come to save the day…”

“And boom, blood everywhere, Batman and his sidekicks dead, we know the drill,” Dean interrupted, irritated. 

“Yes, but plans change and sometimes the chaos unleashed is truly something to behold,” the Joker snarled.

“Nothing is getting unleashed if I have anything to say about it,” Dean growled, body straining.

“But you don’t, do you Dean, nothing but a pawn in the grand scheme of things.  A very valuable pawn, but one none the less,” the Joker grinned, eyes blazing.  Dean blinked, eyes widening at the Joker’s words. 

“What did Azazel show you?” Dean demanded. 

“Heh, so that was his name,” the Joker hummed, eyes leaving Dean to grin at Batman.

“Where are my manners,” the clown cried out dramatically as he gestured between Dean and Batman.

“Batman this is Dean, Dean, the Batman.  But I’m sure you already knew that,” a slow grin stretched across gruesome features. 

“Now, where are your other birds, hmmmm?” Batman remained stoic and silent.

The Joker rolled his eyes, fingers dancing over the sleek knife in his palm.  Dean watched as the Joker’s green eyes bored into the hero’s cowl.  The moment of silence in the warehouse allowed for Dean to pick up on a rhythmic sawing sound coming from his left.  Dean’s eyes flickered over to the restrained Nightwing and Red Hood, taking in the silent shadows quickly cutting the hero and vigilante’s ties. 

Dean flinched as he felt the knife in the Joker’s hand slide across his cheek bringing his eyes back to the clown.  A rustle of fabric told him Batman had taken a step closer prompting the Joker to raise a finger and scold the Dark Knight like a recalcitrant school boy.  Dean held still meeting the clown’s eyes, eyes so very much like his own. 

“Azazel,” Dean said again.

****

“What happened to your helmet Hood?” Tim asked, casting a glance in Jason’s direction.

“Some thug got a lucky hit and fried the wiring so I had to remove it,” Jason snapped causing Damian to let out a low malicious chuckle. 

Dick groaned at his brothers as he rubbed circulation back into his wrists as he and his brothers watched from the shadows.  Batman was leaving it up to them to take out the henchmen and mobsters, thankfully there weren’t too many and they were all riveted by the three men in the middle of the warehouse.  Signaling the other three vigilantes they quietly and efficiently took care of the criminals hiding in the shadows.  They couldn’t effectively apprehend all of the clowns and mobsters and remain anonymous.  Restraining the last unconscious criminal, Dick and Jason made their way to the shadows behind the Joker while Tim and Damien took their positions near Batman. 

The Joker had the slim knife held against Dean Winchester’s cheek, a thin line of red forming as the clown dragged it down towards the man’s lips. 

“Now why are you concerned about what happened in my little ol’ head?” the Joker’s slick voice echoed clearly through the warehouse.

“Let’s just say I need to compare notes,” Dean smirked.

Dick had to hand it to the man, few people could pull off nonchalant strapped to a chair, never mind that coupled with the Joker holding a knife to your face.  Then again, Dick shouldn’t be surprised; this man had most likely seen some horrific things with the life he has led.  Dick flinched as he felt an elbow jam into his rib cage, he needed to get his head back in the game.

****

“Notes hmmmm and where did you get these other notes from?” Joker mused as the hand not holding the knife moved to caress Dean’s hair. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Dean gave the clown a spiteful grin.

“Try me,” the Joker growled, ripping Dean’s head back with a crushing grip in his hair.  Dean kept silent, mouth quirked and green eyes watchful. 

“It was an angel,” Batman spoke up drawing two sets of green eyes to the masked hero.

 Dean raised an eyebrow not really surprised that the man knew about angels seeing as how Dean had mentioned being pulled out of Hell by one to the Red Hood.  Dean was more surprised that the Dark Knight would offer that kind of information up to the Joker.  Although, judging by the Joker’s reaction it was done to throw the clown off his game, it worked. 

Dean turned his eyes back to his uncle, catching a series of emotions which flickered across the painted face before is shuttered and became detached.  Dean spared another quick glance at the stoic face of Batman and wondered briefly if the hero had ever seen his villain so undone.  If Dean was a betting man, which he was on occasion, he would say a definitive no.  Even though nothing escaped the iron control Batman had over his body, no emotions or opinions, Dean knew without a doubt that these men had never faced each other like this. 

“Why Batsy, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a believer in feathery cherubs,” the Joker snickered, eyes rolling in derision.

 “Yeah, they’re not like that.  More like dicks with wings,” Dean huffed, upper lip curled in disgust. 

“An angel hmmm?” Joker’s eyes snapped back to Dean, shrewd and calculating.   

“Well, a few angels and one, uh, former angel,” Dean’s face winced as he swiftly blocked out the memory of a different world in the year 2014. 

The warehouse was pitched back into silence with only the hum of the industrial lighting breaking through the stillness.  Dean’s ears perked as he heard the uncertain shuffling of feet coming from behind the Joker. 

“Boss, sorry to interrupt, but, uh, what do you want us to do?” the clown henchmen asked, glancing nervously between the Joker and Batman. 

The Joker didn’t even glance at the man as he picked up Dean’s gun from the table and shot off a few rounds into his unsuspecting henchman.  The body hit the floor as the Joker gently placed Dean’s colt back on the table, slim knife in hand and against Dean’s throat as Batman made to lunge at the clown. 

“Enough of this Joker,” Batman snarled, edging closer even as blood started to trickle from the pressure of the knife against Dean’s throat.

“No, no, no Batman.  Dean came here for information, well I want some too,” Joker hissed, removing the knife from Dean’s throat as Batman came to a halt. 

Dean suppressed a sigh of relief as the Joker took a step back from him.  His neck stung as the cool warehouse air hit the cut left behind by the blade. 

“And knowing you as I do Batsy, you can’t help but want information too,” the Joker sneered at the Dark Knight.

“What makes you think I don’t already have the information Jack?” Batman asked, drawing out the Joker’s real name. 

A choked, manic laugh erupted from the Joker’s scarred lips.  It was a chilling sound, one that Dean could understand would haunt the streets of Gotham well after it was silenced. 

“Ah ha ha, Jack hmmm, Jack Campbell, Jack, Jack, Jack,” the Joker’s laughter turned into a menacing growl. 

“You want to know what I remember about Jack Campbell,” the Joker lashed out, grabbing Dean by the back of his neck and bringing his face down to press bloody cheek to scarred cheek. 

“Nothing,” the Joker hissed viciously as he tipped Dean’s head back, psychotic green eyes staring into Dean’s righteous ones. 

“Liar,” Dean whispered, eyes challenging. 

The Joker’s lips curled into a sneer, eyes alight with mania.  Dean lurched forward quickly, head snapping towards the Joker as his head connected with the clown’s own painted one.  The Joker teetered backwards while out of the corner of Dean’s eye Batman lunged forward, fist connecting with the madman’s abdomen.  Dean ignored the grunts and laughter that passed between the two men as he worked on his bindings.  Thankfully, he wasn’t left alone for long.  It took but a moment for Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Robin to attack from the shadows.  Dean looked up as a shadow fell across his face, it was Red Hood and the man was holding a wicked looking knife.  The vigilante efficiently slashed through Dean’s ties and yanked him to his feet, fist firmly holding Dean’s collar.  Dean looked towards Batman as he heard a sharp grunt followed by a bitter laugh.  The Dark Knight was bent on one knee while the Joker made a mad dash towards an exit. 

“Shit,” Red Hood cursed in Dean’s ear as the Joker slipped into the darkness.  Dean took the distraction for what it was as he ripped his collar out of the Red Hood’s hold and planting the unsuspecting vigilante on his back. 

Dean bolted out of the warehouse, legs pumping as he raced through the back alleys and side streets.  The Impala was parked a few blocks over and Dean wanted to lose the vigilantes before he headed to his baby.  Taking another corner Dean skidded to a halt as three figures emerged from the shadows in front of him, a woman and two men.  Dean’s neck prickled with unease a few seconds before his body was forcibly slammed into the nearest brick wall. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean managed to wheeze out before his mind went dark and body slack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments or Kudos!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the comments and kudos!! Sorry for not responding to your individual comments but I greatly appreciate them and LOVE that everyone is enjoying the story :)
> 
> Sorry ahead of time, no Cas in this chapter, it just wasn't working and he won't be showing up until the end.   
> Only two more chapters left! This one is way longer than the others so enjoy it!
> 
> As always all mistakes are my own and I do not own these characters.

There hadn’t been any sign of Winchester or the Joker after the mess at the warehouse.  Jason had snarled at Dick before getting to his feet where Winchester had planted him on the cold warehouse floor and taking off in the opposite direction, muttering something about checking in with contacts. 

Dick was currently rifling through a beautiful black Impala, kept in near mint condition and clearly well loved.  He and Tim had come across the classic car in their search for Winchester.  After contacting Bruce about its location the two former Robins got to work picking the car’s locks.  It wasn’t difficult to open the four doors, the trunk however was another matter.  It may have seemed like a standard lock on a trunk, but it took Tim a good few minutes to crack, something Dick was sure hadn’t happened in quite some time. 

Bruce and Damian dropped down silently as Dick popped the trunk open.  It was anticlimactic to say the least.  To the untrained eye it looked like a normal trunk, a duffel bag, tire iron, flashlight, tool box, and some water bottles.  All and all, nothing spectacular or really telling about the life Winchester has lived or what he is planning to do while in Gotham.  Dick, however, knew what to look for after he made his cursory evaluation of the objects in the trunk.  There was a seam running along the bottom giving away the information to a hidden compartment.  Reaching down, Dick popped the false bottom up and blinked twice, blue eyes wide. 

“I don’t know why I’m surprised.  I mean, we’ve all seen the objects and things Constantine carries, but this stuff, it just seems way more violent,” Tim commented as his fingers grazed the various weapons and books. 

Dick snorted as Bruce moved next to his shoulder, reaching into the trunk and picking up the sawed off shotgun and propping it up against the false bottom.  Dick glanced up at his mentor’s masked face noting the pinched mouth and shrewd eyes. 

“Constantine doesn’t fight if he can help it, the man would much rather con his way out of a situation than use his magic or fists,” Bruce coolly remarked. 

“That doesn’t seem like Winchester’s way,” Tim said with a slight shake of his head. 

“Evil things deserve death.  What’s one less monster in the world,” Damian declared ignoring Dick’s sharp look.

“Come, we need to go check the CCTV footage then maybe we can get a lock on Winchester,” Batman ordered as he took off across the rooftops.

Dick, Tim, Bruce, and Damian were swiftly making their way across the rooftops of Gotham when a large shadow on the ground caught Dick’s eye.  It shouldn’t have warranted any notice from Dick, shadows engulfed Gotham at all hours of the day, especially night.  But the dull thrum of music that broke through the opened door and revealed a tall, broad man made Dick hesitate.  There was nothing overtly threatening about the man, if anything he considerately moved out of the way of others as he made his way down the street.  If Dick hadn’t been raised and trained by Batman he would have dismissed the man like so many on the street did as well.  However, Dick couldn’t ignore his gut instincts or the prickling sensation that crawled up his neck.  Dick paused his stride and came to a halt along the edge of the roof, crouching down to allow the shadows to conceal him.  He heard Bruce, Tim, and Damian double back and crouch down next to him as he gestured towards the man he was watching.  The man stopped by an entrance to an alley and pulled out his phone.  The heroes moved soundlessly towards the roofs overlooking the alley.

****

Sam exited the grungy dive bar and took a steading breath before he turned and made his way down the sidewalk.  Dean wasn’t at the motel he told Sam he had checked in to, he wasn’t at any of the local diners, and that was the last bar within walking distance of the motel.  Dean was missing and Sam was pissed, anxious but mostly pissed.  The younger Winchester pulled out his phone and called Dean again, hunching his shoulders to ward off the chill of the city’s air.  Sam cursed under his breath when Dean didn’t answer and shoved the phone back in his pocket.  Rolling his shoulders and neck to relieve the weight and tension, Sam looked up about to send a silent prayer to Cas when movement caught his eye. 

Sam shifted deeper into the alley as he pulled his gun out of his waistband, removing the safety.  Four shadows descended on the hunter, Sam spinning to face the largest.  A shaft of moonlight lit the alley, illuminating the broad menacing figure Sam had his gun trained on.  Curbing any outward reaction, Sam ground his teeth and silently cursed his luck and his brother. 

“I hope you have a permit for that,” the tall, dark haired man in blue and black spoke up, a grin giving him a friendly air. 

“I think we both know the answer to that,” Sam spoke warily, sharp eyes still directed at the largest masked man. 

“Batman I presume,” Sam said, voice steady and clear. 

“Sam Winchester,” the Dark Knight of Gotham tilted his head in acknowledgment. 

Sam couldn’t hide his reaction this time, sputtering out a denial before sighing in resignation at the unimpressed looks he received. 

“Don’t worry, we’ve been on the lookout for you ever since your brother got on our radar.  Nightwing by the way, and that’s Red Robin and Robin,” the man in blue and black, Nightwing, chuckled as he pointed out the other two protégés of the Batman.   

Sam’s eyes hardened at the mention of his brother.  This was one of the reasons Sam had wanted to come with Dean in the first place and screw Dean’s reasoning for not letting him.  Of course his brother didn’t listen and Heaven help anyone who tries to change Dean Winchester’s mind. 

 “Where’s Dean?” Sam demanded, gun still trained and steady on Batman.

“We don’t know, we can’t find him,” Nightwing spoke up.

“What do you mean you can’t find him? Isn’t this your city?” Sam asked incredulously.  From what he gathered from his research Sam assumed the heroes of Gotham knew everything that happened in their city. 

“Yes, and people disappear in it all the time,” Red Robin remarked, the younger man’s voice hard with regret. 

“So what, Dean got in the Impala and just disappeared?” Sam really didn’t believe what they were telling him.

“No.  Winchester never even made it to his car, it was parked a few blocks away from the warehouse when we came across it in pursuit of your brother,” Batman said, voice pitched low. 

“Did you check the surrounding alleys and side streets?” Sam demanded, patience running thin.

“Of course,” Robin scoffed, clearly offended.

“And,” Sam snapped, couldn’t these men understand the more time they wasted withholding information the more likely he wasn’t going to get Dean back.

“There was nothing, just what you’d expect to find in alleys and the overwhelming stench of rotten eggs,” Robin stated as he scrunched his nose clearly remembering the smell of sulphur.    

“Rotten eggs,” Sam whispered, murky hazel eyes wide.

“We were on our way to check the CCTV footage of the area when you conveniently showed up,” Robin commented, ignoring Sam as he moved passed Sam and over to his mentor’s side.

“I’m coming with you,” Sam said his voice hard as he drew himself up, squaring his shoulders. 

Batman met his eyes in a hard calculating stare before nodding once and disappearing into the shadows.  Sam followed the heroes through the dark back alleys before coming to a stop at the back entrance of what looked like an apartment complex.  Blinking, Sam realized there was no way in Hell they would’ve brought him to their headquarters so this must be a safe house equipped with surveillance systems.  Turned out Sam was right as he entered the third floor apartment and was pointedly shoved into a chair in the corner by Robin.  Sam tried not to take offense, but the young hero barely reached his elbow and he wasn’t in the habit of being pushed around. 

Red Robin sat down at the main console and after a quick array of security codes pulled up the surveillance footage from the night.      

****

Dean’s wrists were bound and stretched high and tight above his head.  A rusted metal hook chained to the ceiling kept his body suspended, booted toes barely scraping the ground.  Dean took stock of his body, ignoring the dull throb of his head which seemed to be the only thing hurting for the moment.  He was stripped of his jacket and shirts, goosebumps popping up along his torso as the chill set into his bones.  Dean’s eyes adjusted to the dull yellow light overhead as he took in the windowless room.  It smelt damp and earthy, more than likely Dean was in a basement.  The single wooden door creaked open across from him as three relatively normal looking people strode in.  A woman was in the center, eyes pitched black for a moment before turning back to a dull brown.  The man to her right flashed black eyes at Dean along with a lopsided smile complete with rotting teeth.  The second man was in tailored slacks and a white button down, Dean wondered at the picture they made walking into the building together.  A shadow in the corner of Dean’s eye brought his attention back to the doorway, but it was gone before Dean could get a good look.

“Well, Dean Winchester the Righteous Man himself,” the lady grinned, her sugar sweet tone making Dean roll his eyes.

“Always nice to be recognized,” Dean drawled, glaring at the three demons.

“It’s funny that you think you wouldn’t be, that you can hide or run,” Rotten Teeth chuckled, spittle flying out of his mouth.

“Who’s hiding?  Pretty sure I wouldn’t have come to Gotham if I wanted to hide from a bunch of low level demons,” Dean scoffed as he tested the strength of his ties.  

The lady demon cocked her head to the side, eyes slithering over Dean’s body.  She moved closer to Dean and raised her manicured hand to trace the anti-possession tattoo before moving to his shoulder.  Dean growled as she traced over Cas’ handprint before fitting her own hand over the top and squeezing. 

“You shouldn’t have come to Gotham at all,” she purred in his ear as her nails clawed up Dean’s side. 

Dean huffed in minor agreement before snapping his head to the side, head butting the demon bitch.  It didn’t cause any damage but, the lady was no longer breathing down his neck and feeling up Cas’ mark. 

“Now that wasn’t very nice,” the lady hissed as she backhanded Dean.  The other two demons chuckled as blood flew out of Dean’s mouth. 

“Looks like someone is going to have to learn some manners,” the demon wearing casual business dress drawled. 

“Seriously,” Dean mocked, “you’re going to teach me some manners, could you be any more cliché?”

“Well, you’re not wrong Dean and honestly if Alastair couldn’t teach you any manners what chance do we have,” the lady cajoled, eyes flashing black. 

Dean stiffened as his breath froze in his throat.  Alastair was dead and nothing these three did to him would come close to what he experienced in Hell.  He just needed to remember that, Alastair was dead.  Cold steel pressed against his ribs brought Dean back to the present.  The warmth that bloomed and trickled down his side made him flinch away from the knife pressed against him, the demon killing knife. 

“Oh sorry about that, but you left us for a while and well I can’t have that,” the lady remarked as she casually twirled the knife in her hand before slicing it through Dean’s quad.

“If Alastair could see the hold he still has on you Deano,” rotten teeth snickered.

“Well, hate to break it to you guys but he’s dead, Sam took care of your precious Grand Torturer, so you can quite living in the glory days,” Dean mouthed off, body shaking with barely perceptible tremors. 

“Yes, Sam,” the lady demon mused, knife trailing across Dean’s stomach and back as she walked around the hunter.

“You stay the fuck away from my brother,” Dean snarled, thrashing against his bindings and flinching back as the knife cut into his skin. 

“No can do there Deano.  We couldn’t stay away from Sam any more than the angels could stay away from you,” the lady remarked, eyes glittering black. 

“I mean, he is our father’s vessel after all and he made Azazel so proud even though it ended up being that other boy who opened the gate,” Dean remained silent as the woman antagonized him, her words cutting deeper than any knife ever could. 

“Anyways, we couldn’t believe it when we heard you were coming to Gotham, it was just too perfect, an opportunity we couldn’t pass up,” the female demon gave a pleased sigh. 

“Oh come on Dean, you have to be curious.  You see, Azazel charged us with Gotham a long time ago and not to cause any trouble, just to watch.  Watch one of his creations reach his full potential and this city become ground zero,” she exhaled into Dean’s ear, a deeply satisfied sound that had Dean growling and tingling with rage.

“Croatoan.  This was going to be the first city the virus was unleashed on,” Dean whispered, fists clenched.

“Was, sweetheart, it will happen and there’s nothing you can do to prevent it.  But, you still seem to be missing a crucial part to your depressingly miserable story,” the woman chuckled as Dean’s eyebrows drew together and his mouth pinched in confusion. 

“Who do you think we were going to possess to spread the virus?” the demon’s head cocked to the side, a smug smile flirted across her face. 

“Joker,” Dean exhaled on a hush breath, green eyes wide and protesting in the darkness.

“No one would look twice at this city if all of a sudden more and more people were going out of their minds.  I mean, look at how many blind eyes are turned when it comes to what your dear old uncle has done.  No one gives a damn about this pit of despair and madness,” the lady gave Dean a triumphant grin, one that was echoed by the two lackeys behind her. 

“You’re wrong.  I’m pretty sure there’s at least two people who care about this city,” Dean said considering, eyes drawn to the shadows of the doorway.

“The Bat is human, breakable,” the lady sneered in derision.

“It’s not just Batman,” Dean smirked as a low, grim cackle filled the stale air of the basement. 

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, et secta diabolica,” Joker stepped out from the shadows, the exorcism causing the two male demons to thrash in pain as black smoke exited out of the meat suit’s mouths. 

The female demon screamed in rage as she turned to face the Joker.  Dean bared down on his tied arms, using the leverage to lift his legs up and kick out, knocking the lady to the side, knife spinning out of her hand.  The Joker snatched the knife up, plunging it into the female demon eliciting an agonized screech and a flash of reddish light before her body dropped to the floor. 

Dean looked up from the woman’s body, arms still bound above his head and body still dripping with blood from his various cuts.  He met devastating green eyes surrounded by black greasepaint and a cruel twist of scarred lips.  Ruby’s knife was hanging limp in the Joker’s hand, blood dripping onto the concrete floor of the basement. 

“I think I preferred the demons,” Dean tried for a grin and ended more with a grimace.  A low hum escaped the Joker’s painted lips as he flipped the hilt of the knife up and gave Dean a solid hit to the temple. 

****

A quiet thump outside the window announced the presence of the Red Hood on the fire escape.  The vigilante bent down to unlatch the window as he slide inside, eyeing where Sam was in his corner.  The man looked over towards Batman and gave a quick negative shake of his head at the unspoken question.  Sam assumed it had something to do with Dean but didn’t comment. 

“Alright, I’ve got the footage up,” Red Robin stated as everyone gathered around the young man. 

Sam got up a moment after everyone else, pretending not to notice how Red Hood angled his body to keep Sam in his periphery.  Sam nodded to the man and received what he assumed was a stare down, he couldn’t really tell with the helmet and all, before Red Hood looked back at the monitor. 

There was Dean on the screen, running through the back alleys of Gotham and dodging around corners.  Sam watched as his brother came to a stop a couple streets over from the Impala.  He watched as three bodies materialized out of the shadows and an unknown force tossed Dean into the brick wall of one of the buildings. 

“Demons,” Sam ground out, shoulders tensing as Red Hood’s head turned in his direction. 

Red Robin followed the three demons and an unconscious Dean on the CCTV footage.  The hero followed them as they loaded Dean into a nondescript vehicle and towards a more run down section of Gotham, where a street of dilapidated row houses stood.  The demons dragged Dean into one of the houses on the left side of the street.  Sam sighed in relief; at least he knew where Dean was.  Now all he had to do was rescue his thick headed brother.

“You’re brother mentioned demons the other day too, why?” Red Hood asked, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Uh, yeah, it’s one of the reasons I came after him,” Sam said, running a hand through his hair.  The group of stares aimed at Sam made him want to fidget.  Instead he moved backwards and took a seat in the corner of the room. 

“I did some more research after Dean left to come here and noticed an increase in demonic activity, you know freak electrical storms and whatnot.  It just seemed weird, Gotham is home to a bunch of monsters but they’ve always seemed to be more of the human variety,” Sam explained. 

Sam sighed as he leaned back into the seat.  He hadn’t wanted Dean to come alone in the first place, but his brother insisted and Sam couldn’t talk him out of it for once.   

“What happened, what made Dean come looking for Jack Campbell?” Nightwing asked brows furrowed causing his mask to wrinkle. 

“Dean doesn’t talk about it, ever.  I don’t remember anything from that night or anything about Jack Campbell, but after Dean got back from 2014 it was the only thing he wanted to do, knew he had to do,” Sam sighed. 

“Wait, are you saying your brother traveled in time to 2014, to the future?” Robin exclaimed, the masks eyes widening in disbelief.

“Yeah, umm, it’s kind of complicated but it involved an angel named Zachariah.  He wanted Dean to see what the future held if he didn’t do what the angels commanded,” Sam said an annoyed sneer crossing his face.   

“So something happened in 2014.  Something that made Dean seek out an uncle he thought was dead,” Batman mused, eyes sharp and unnerving as they analyzed Sam. 

“Yeah, I have a pretty good hunch about that but, I don’t know why Dean would’ve listened,” Sam sheepishly said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Look, I don’t know how much you know about us, you’ve obviously made the connection between us and the Joker, but we’re not here in Gotham to cause anyone harm.  I just don’t want to lose my brother, I can’t, not again,” Sam pleaded with the heroes, soulful hazel eyes wide and imploring. 

“What happened,” Nightwing asked, concern leaking through his voice.  Sam took a deep breath and looked up.  He had these men riveted even if their bodies screamed aloofness.  Sam couldn’t blame them, how often does someone come across people like him and Dean.  They’re freaks, anomalies, people who should be dead countless times over and yet keep coming back.  

“Before the Hellhounds came for Dean when his year was up, I spent six months with him dead and that was after being caught in a time loop where I had to watch him die every day, over and over again,” Sam spoke softly, hazel eyes far away.

“I don’t understand, why?” Batman asked voice harsh in the presence of Sam’s.

“It wasn’t some evil spirit or vengeful witch.  It was Gabriel, the archangel.  He wanted me to understand with every fiber of my being that I could never save Dean, I would never be able to save my brother.  He was right,” Sam’s voice trembled. 

Sam rubbed his hand across his face before smoothing his hair back and glancing at the other men.  Sam knew the bare bones of these men’s stories and they knew next to nothing about his, yet, his body screamed for him to say more, to tell them about where he’s been, what he’s done, what he’s going to do, what he could be.  These are men who flaunt fate, who embrace the darkness that wants to consume them and manipulate it for their own purpose.  The again, these are men who chose this life. 

“I never save Dean, I can never save Dean.  I’m the little brother, the one who needs protection, the one who takes, the only one who can destroy him,” Sam whispered viciously.

“Your Dean’s whole world, but he’s not always yours,” Batman observed, eyes level and guarded. 

Sam’s warm hazel eyes snapped up to meet cool blue ones, a denial chocked back down his throat.  These men have saved this city countless times at the expense of themselves.  Sam wondered how often they’ve failed themselves at the expense of each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments or Kudos!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone for reading, commenting, and the kudos!!
> 
> One more chapter to go after this, enjoy :)
> 
> As always all mistakes are my own and I don't own these characters.

“Look, I’m going to need to get the Impala,” Sam said to Batman’s back as he made his way out of the safe house followed by the other heroes. 

“No,” Batman’s gruff voice bounced off the walls as they reached a side door which spilled out into an alley. 

“We’re going up against demons, no offense, but you’re not exactly equipped to handle them,” Sam reached out and grabbed Batman’s shoulder, turning the man towards him. 

Sam had a few inches on the hero and yet he immediately released the man’s shoulder after those analytical eyes raised to meet Sam’s hazel ones. 

“It won’t take that long, I’ll just hotwire the car and meet you at the house,” Sam appealed to Batman.

“Take Red Hood with you,” Batman commanded after a moment of consideration. 

Sam immediately nodded his acceptance and ignored the rabid growl that came from the Red Hood.  He turned and headed in the direction of the Impala, ignoring the hushed and angry words between Batman and Red Hood.  A few seconds later Sam heard the crunch of heavy booted feet come up behind him and a hand shove him down another alley in what Sam assumed was a quicker route back to the car. 

Sam was right, it took no time to get the Impala and head over to the row house, especially when Red Hood showed him the shortcuts.  Sam parked the car a few streets over and watched as Batman materialized out of the shadows a few feet away.  Sam got out of the car and unlocked the trunk, picking up the false bottom and rooted around until he found enough holy water for everyone to carry.  Sam turned and tossed a bottle to both Red Hood and Batman before grabbing a shotgun and some rounds of rock salt shells and closing the trunk.  The neighborhood was quiet as they made their way through the shadows; a solitary dog howling broke up the still night air.  Nightwing and Red Robin were on the roof of the row house as Sam approached, Robin was lurking in the shadows awaiting Batman. 

“Okay, three demons and Dean is out of action.  The holy water will hurt the demons but not the people being possessed.  I’ll start the exorcism as soon as we come across them,” Sam informed the three heroes on the ground hoping Nightwing and Red Robin would hear him over the comm links. 

“They’ll be in the basement.  These houses only have one way into the basement and one way out, best defensive position,” Red Hood informed Sam before he stalked off towards the house. 

They soundlessly made their way into the house, Sam clearing corners as they walked through the first floor looking for the basement stairs.  Nightwing and Red Robin vaulted down from the second floor, signaling the all clear.  The basement door was towards the back of the house, encased in shadow and open.  Sam’s ears strained as he tried to listen for any signs of movement, silence echoed back.  Batman made his way down the steps, white lenses dropping down over his eyes. 

“All clear,” Batman’s harsh voice cracked Sam’s chest in two.  Dean had to be here. 

Sam clamored his way down the stairs followed by the other heroes.  He stopped short at the three bodies lying cold on the floor, they were the demon’s victims.  The woman had a deep knife wound to her chest while the men’s bodies were contorted in pain.  Sam was about to sigh in relief as he looked up and made eye contact with Nightwing.  The hero indicated to the far wall with a tilt of his dark head.  Sam turned as the hairs on his neck rose in dread.  On the far wall behind a swinging chain and hook was a message written in red.   

****

Dean kept his eyes closed as he came back to consciousness; his body ached and stung where the cool air danced over opened wounds.  Dean tipped his head back as he opened his eyes to the gloomy light, his hands were bound over his head again but his knees were resting on the cement floor, feet tied off behind him.  Dean startled as a hand curled around his chin bringing his head down and coming face to face with the Joker.  The clown was crouched down in order to be eye level with Dean, one hand still holding Dean’s chin while the other was resting against the man’s thigh, Ruby’s knife lazily tracing patterns over the purple material. 

“So, heh, how’d you find me?” Joker asked, removing his hand to trail fingers through his slick green hair.

“It’s weird what happens when you type in ‘why so serious?’ into Google.  You just pop right up, all scars and death,” Dean snorted, eyes steady on the clown.

“Ah hah ha, glad to see someone else in the family has a sense of humor.  But, please leave the jokes to me,” a red sneer spread across the Joker’s face as the knife slid from the man’s thigh to Dean’s torso. 

Dean tried to jerk away as the knife cut into his abdomen and fresh blood trickled out of the shallow wound.  He glared at the Joker as the knife came to a halt at Dean’s collar bone.  The Joker tapped the flat edge of the blade against Dean with a contemplative look on his face, the greasepaint creasing and showing pale flesh.  No one would ever associate the Joker with silence.  But, it rang throughout the warehouse as acid green eyes studied Dean, unnerving in their intensity. 

“You want to know what I saw, what that demon showed me, what it said to me,” the Joker’s voice dripped with scorn as he calmly flicked the knife across Dean’s collar bone. 

Dean hid his wince, body still as he watched the Joker’s eyes widen in false sincerity.  The Joker leaned forward, hands coming up to cup Dean’s head with Ruby’s knife pressed firmly against his cheek.  Red paint smeared across the opposite cheek as the Joker dragged his mouth to Dean’s ear.  Dean’s breath stuttered as a low giggle sounded in his ear. 

“It’s all your fault Dean.  Little Sammy ends the world with the death of his big brother, his knight in shining armor.  You don’t save him, you don’t save anyone.  The world just crumbles away and descends into chaos and darkness,” the Joker whispered with a grin.

“That’s it, you saw me dead at the hands of Sam and the world around us falling into chaos and ruin and you, what, lose your shit,” Dean exclaimed.  The Joker leaned back a smirk lighting his features as Dean’s anger boiled.   

 “You were raised by hunters.  You should know demons lie,” Dean snapped, disbelief coloring his voice. 

“What that demon showed me was no lie.  That was not Sam.  That was nothing I had ever seen then and nothing I’ve seen since,” Joker snarled as he grasped Dean’s hair jerking the hunter’s head back, Dean’s eyes closing in pain.

 

_“You don’t have to be afraid of me Dean,” Lucifer reached out to touch Dean’s shoulder as Dean stumbled back, eyes narrowed._

_The courtyard was surrounded by destroyed buildings, but the plants, the roses, were still thriving.  Dean stood facing Lucifer, jaw clenched and body angled away from the archangel.  Of course he was afraid, everything he thought they had been working against had come true.  Lucifer was standing before him, wearing his little brother, the one person in Dean’s life that meant more to him than his very own soul.  He failed._

_“I couldn’t love human beings more than my own Father, you’re flawed, murderous and for that my own brother had to cast me into Hell.  Now tell me, does the punishment fit the crime, especially when I was right,” Lucifer stated, imploring Dean with Sam’s compassionate hazel eyes._

_“After all, just look at what your uncle Jack Campbell has become.  He is the pure human embodiment of chaos, destructive rage brought on by humanities faults,” Lucifer patronized Dean, a small smile playing on his lips._

_“Uncle Jack’s dead,” Dean’s voice cracked._

_“Is he now?  And who told you that Dean, your father?” Lucifer remarked as he smoothed his fingers down the petal of a rose._

_“What do you know, where is he?” Dean demanded, voice hoarse._

_“Why so serious?” Lucifer grinned, Sam’s dimples taunting him._

 

“No shit, it’s fucking Lucifer,” Dean spat, wrenching his head out of the merciless grip.

“Lucifer!  I thought that demon bitch said you were the one the angels couldn’t keep their hands off of,” a gleeful, incredulous cackle erupted from the Joker.

“Lucifer’s the father of all demons and I think you have a serious delusion of what angles are,” Dean grumbled, jaw clenched. 

“Then do tell Dean, what are angels and why are they so fixated on you?” Joker hummed moving closer to skate the knife up Dean’s bicep. 

“They’re God’s soldiers, created for the sole purpose to do His will,” Dean stated, mouth curled in disgust. 

“So why bring you back from Hell, hmmmm?” the Joker tilted his head regarding Dean with intensely probing eyes. 

“I think you might know the answer to that,” Dean uttered, green eyes keen on the madman in front of him.

“They brought you back just to have your baby brother kill you.  Ah ha ha haah, that doesn’t seem very, uhhh, practical,” Joker snickered with an abortive shake of his head. 

“I mean, why would angels be so invested in you?  Invested enough to bring you back from the dead, if my Batsy is to be believed, which, of course he is,” the Joker mused as he studied Dean, eyes one step away from making too many connections. 

“You know, I came here for answers, answers only you could give me,” Dean’s brow was furrowed as he continued to study the clown.  He needed to get the Joker away from the topic of himself and the angels. 

 “Oh I know Dean, don’t for one second think I don’t.  I know all about Hell’s plans, mhmm, yes I do.  Although, I will admit that little piece about, uh, what was it again, Croatoan, that was rather unexpected,” Joker taunted with a grim spark in his green eyes and a savage smile on his face. 

“You should be thanking me then, for bringing it to your attention,” Dean stated with a brash grin. 

“Oh I don’t know about that.  After all, I was left bleeding out on my own floor while my sister’s husband, a man I called ‘brother’ fled.  You all left me, like I was a stranger, a job, a hunt,” Joker snarled, gloved hand moving around to clutch Dean’s neck and cut off some air supply momentarily. 

“I was a kid! What the hell am I supposed to think when I see my uncle slice his own face up and blood start pouring everywhere,” Dean growled, eyes flashing as the Joker’s hand moved from his neck to his cheek imitating a caress. 

“Dad said you were dead.  There was so much blood, what was I supposed to believe,” Dean exclaimed, fists clenching in the air above his head.

Ruby’s knife was efficiently plunged into Dean’s gut, the hunter groaning out in pain as he felt blood seep out of the wound.  Dean looked down at his stomach in horrifying realization before he looked up and met the Joker’s eyes.  Dean saw death in the Joker’s green eyes.  He hoped that wasn’t what his own eyes looked like before he killed.   

 “You took the easy way, the cowards’ way.  You let the darkness and insanity consume you,” Dean’s chest was heaving.  “You think I don’t want to take the easy road and just let myself snap.  Let the fucking Feds lock me up and claim it was all because of my shitty childhood or some traumatic experience.  I could do that, I could do that easily, blame everyone else and just let fate take its course.  But I’ve got seven billion souls to think about and I already broke once, it will never happen again.  So, if you kill me, you better hope I don’t get back up,” Dean said, eyes unwavering as the Joker held the knife to Dean’s mouth.

**** 

Joker stared at the lifeless body hanging from the rusted metal hook chained to the ceiling.  Dean Winchester really was quite beautiful, even in death, or perhaps especially in death.  There was no, mess.  Well, Dean’s body was rather messy with the opened wounds which trickled blood down various points on his body.  The vicious crimson grin Joker carved through his face dripped a cascade of blood enhancing the copper tang in the warehouse air.  So yes, Dean’s body itself was messy, but Dean was no longer a mess.  No longer a mess of human emotions or fears, green eyes no longer brimming with righteous fury, with bold principles, and unflinching loyalty.  He was stripped down to what was needed, a body.  There was no cowardice in Dean’s eyes as his life drained out of him; Joker wasn’t expecting any, not from the son of John Winchester.  There wasn’t even resignation, just a promise of vengeance.  A wild laugh escaped Joker’s lips, forceful and unbridled in his manic state.

Joker stretched his tight muscles as he moved up the back metal staircase of the warehouse and shimmied out a busted window and onto the flat roof.  Gotham gleamed in the early dawn light, the bleak colors of the skyline awash with the glow of daybreak.  He had sixteen hours until the Bats showed up, assuming they got his message and assuming Dean didn’t come back to life before then.  He was honestly surprised the first time Dean stepped out of the shadows, those eyes staring him down, so very much like his own.  Something hot and vicious had curled through his body making his toes tingle.  Joker hadn’t thought about Jack Campbell since the first time he saw Batman wrapped up in all of his honorable justice and order. 

_Jack Campbell had lost track of John Winchester and his nephews a year after he woke up in a hospital, mouth covered in gauze and a blood bag hooked up to his arm.  The doctor and nurses would enter, check vitals, change the dressings on his face, and leave with only the cursory questions and comments on his condition.  No charges were pressed, after all, it was only his blood that was found at the crime scene, the possessed cop remembered nothing, and the only witnesses had fled into the night._

_He was visited by a psychiatrist four times before he checked himself out of the hospital.  The man droned on about coping mechanisms and prescriptions which would help with the trauma.  The good doctor seemed to be under the impression that Jack belonged in a psych ward and on his fourth visit made his recommendation to the medical doctor that Jack be moved to the local asylum for further evaluation.  Well, Jack took his first steps in becoming the Joker during that last session._

_It was bloody, at the time the bloodiest thing he had done, that’s all changed now, it wouldn’t even crack the top fifty.  It left its mark though, it cemented the stylish flair the city of Gotham has become accustomed to, has come to fear.  Jack sliced the psychiatrist from ear to ear, a huge hideous grin now permanent on the man’s face.  Jack would get better over the years, more precise in his cuts, not so broad and bloody._

_The following months were spent evading the cops, not that it posed much of a challenge, he was after all raised a hunter.  No, what ended up being impossible was finding John Winchester.  A year, he hunted his family across the States for a year and in the last weeks he ended up in Gotham.  Gotham was a cesspool crawling with monsters.  Jack butchered his way through the vampires, shapeshifters, werewolves, ghosts, and whatever else he came across until there was nothing but a pit of human filth and sin.  Gotham was his.  Just who he was, well, he would let the city he cleansed create him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments or Kudos!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is it, except for the epilogue! Thank you to all the comments and kudos :) I'm glad people enjoyed a story that started out as a huge "well, what if this was the case..."
> 
> As always all mistakes are my own and I do not own these characters.

Sam was pacing back and forth as he clutched his phone in sweaty hands.  He had called Cas multiple times but the angel wasn’t answering, not that Sam was surprised, he wasn’t Dean after all.  But, this was about Dean, Dean who was in currently in the hands of a lunatic, mass murdering clown who just so happened to be their uncle.  Sam paused momentarily in his pacing, his hand brushing back the hair from his eyes and let out a slow breath.  He needed to calm down; worrying about Dean wasn’t going to help him.  The Joker had left a location and a time written in blood on the wall of the basement, Sam had wanted to go right away but Batman had said it would’ve been pointless.  They needed to wait and snuff out every facet of what the Joker was planning before any moves could be made.  So, Sam paced and called Cas. 

“So, this ‘Cas’ you’re trying to get in contact with, you think he can help?” Nightwing’s voice sounded from by the window. 

They were back in the safe house, Batman and Robin had left to who knows where as soon as the location the Joker had written was confirmed.  Red Hood had ducked out as well, although he blatantly told Sam he would blow a hole in his head if he did anything stupid.  Sam had withheld a snort at that, he wasn’t Dean.  That had left just Nightwing and Red Robin to guard him, Sam assumed the others would be back later, if only to give these two a break and chance to rest.

“Yeah, Cas is the angel that pulled Dean out of Hell,” Sam answered his tone soft. 

“So your brother really died,” Red Robin had turned away from the computer monitors to give Sam an intrigued look.   

“Yeah, yeah he did,” Sam’s voice was tired.

“How long was he gone?” Red Robin’s curiosity made Sam’s lips curl into a small smile.

“Four months, up here,” Sam said.

“What do you mean, ‘up here’?” Red Robin’s face was scrunched in confusion.  Sam looked over and Sam Nightwing’s body turned completely towards him as well, yeah, death was always fascinating. 

“Time moves differently once you’re dead.  It was four months for me, up here.  It was forty years for Dean in Hell,” Sam watched as horror dawned on both heroes faces.   

A sharp ringing sound pierced the silence of the room causing Sam to startle.  He let out a relieved sigh as he looked at the caller ID and answered the phone. 

“Hey Cas, yeah I’m in Gotham and Dean’s been kidnapped.  Uhhh, it was first demons but now the Joker has him, yeah our uncle, yes Cas the one who’s a psychotic clown.  I’m in a safe house, the address? Hold on,” Sam glanced over at Nightwing who handed him a piece of paper, “2344 SW 2nd Ave. apartment 310.”

“Hello Sam,” Sam barely finished before the sound of wings announced Cas’ arrival.

“Hey Cas,” Sam ended the call with a sigh, shoulders relaxing at the sight of the angel. 

“Cas this is Nightwing and Red Robin.  Nightwing, Red Robin this is Castiel, angel of the Lord,” Sam said as he turned to introduce the heroes to the angel. 

The three dark haired men looked at each other, two with awe and one with confusion. 

“Those are rather unusual names for humans,” Cas glanced questioningly at Sam.

“Yeah, well, they’re their superhero identities.  They use them to keep their real identities a secret, to keep their personal lives safe,” Sam explained, he hoped Cas understood what that meant and that the angel wouldn’t go digging around in any of Gotham’s heroes heads. 

“That’s very sensible.  You and Dean should do that,” Cas said after a beat, a thoughtful look in his eye.

“I think it’s a little late for that,” Sam let out a chuckle, relief coursing through his veins, “thanks for coming Cas.  I don’t know what shape Dean’s going to be in or what the Joker’s planning, it will be nice to have some divine back up.”

“Dean’s dead,” Cas stated.

“What?!” Sam, Nightwing, and Red Robin exclaimed. 

“What he fuck, what do you mean?” Sam reached forward and grabbed the lapels on Cas’ trenchcoat.

“I mean his soul is no longer in his body,” Cas spoke slowly, eyeing Sam like he had grown another head.

“Please tell me he’s not in Hell again,” Sam pleaded, hands shaking.

“Dean’s not in Hell Sam, it won’t be difficult to bring him back, I just need to get to his body,” Cas assured the hunter. 

“Okay, alright, the Joker left us an address of a warehouse and a time to meet him there.  That’s the best we can do,” Sam let out a shaky breath as he turned to check with Nightwing. 

Nightwing and Red Robin gave him short confirming nods even though their faces were a bit drained of color.  Sam couldn’t blame them; he knew his face must’ve looked even worse.  It was never easy hearing about death and Cas still hadn’t exactly grasped the concept of tact.  Sam looked back over his shoulder at the angel, now all they had to do was wait. 

****

The warehouse was silent, deserted as Dick crept forward along the roof.  There was no light except for the dull glow of the moon as he and Tim dropped down onto a beam through an open hatch.  Nothing moved, nothing made a sound and Dick was completely on edge.  This was not like the Joker, this was not how the clown set traps.  It was as if Dean Winchester’s presence brought out a whole other side, one long forgotten and suppressed.  Dick wasn’t happy about it, he couldn’t even imagine how Bruce was feeling.    

Dick heard the flutter of wings as two dark shapes appeared at the far end of the warehouse, he still could barely wrap his head around the fact that he and Tim had met an actual angel.  Although, the man was nothing like Dick was expecting.  For one thing he didn’t seem to really understand social cues and he kind of stared a lot.  It had freaked Tim out a bit and Dick thought it was odd, he thought angels were supposed to watch over humans, shouldn’t that mean they would understand them?  Dick sighed, this was why the Bats tried to stay away from the supernatural. 

Sam clicked on a flashlight, the yellow glow illuminating the tall man’s face before it was cast out in a wide arc landing on a hunched over form secured to one of the beams near the center of the building.  Dick heard the sharp intake of breath even as he and Tim dropped down from the rafters.  Sam had quickly made his way over to the body, Castiel not far behind.  As Dick and Tim made their way around the steel support beam, Dick’s eyes caught the dark stain of red on the concrete floor.  Dried blood flared out around Dean Winchester’s slumped body.  Sam’s flashlight moved up his brother’s body, highlighting the bare torso and caked blood around various wounds, the worst being the stab to the stomach.  At least, that’s what Dick thought until the light hit Dean clean in the face. 

Dick was no stranger to seeing the Joker’s customary mutilation tradition.  Dick just wasn’t used to having to witness it with another person.  Sam’s choked off whimper cut Dick just as deeply as Joker’s knife cut through Dean.  Dick turned to offer comfort to the man, but Tim held him back with a gentle hand.  Sam’s hand reached and touched his brother’s face, the dried blood flaking off under the pressure of his fingers.  Dick watched in fascination as Sam’s body shuddered and his face smoothed out, impassive as he turned and nodded at Castiel. 

Castiel stared at Sam a moment longer, eyes shrewd and Dick couldn’t help but feel as though the angel was measuring Sam’s soul.  The angel nodded after a moment, seemingly satisfied with what he found before he stepped up to Dean’s body.  Dick watched, captivated as Castiel placed two fingers to Dean’s forehead, eyes glowing with an unnatural white light that seemed to course through Dean.  Dean who had suddenly gasped for breath and whose body had wrenched in his bindings. 

“Hey Cas,” Dean’s voice croaked as green eyes fluttered open, body heaving in a deep breath. 

Dick’s mouth was open in complete shock, he didn’t need to look over at Tim to know his little brother looked the same.  Not only was Dean Winchester alive, breathing, and talking but he was healed, completely healed, not a scratch or smear of blood on him.  Dick was stunned.  Dick was a little bit angry.  Dick could finally understand why knowing that angels exist and can bring people back to life would piss Jason off so much.  What made these men so special that they got to be saved, but his brother had to crawl through the pit of insanity to come back to them. 

Dick startled out of his thoughts as Castiel was suddenly scant inches away from him.  The angel was cloaked in the shadows thrown off by Sam’s flashlight, but Dick could make out the furrowed brow and analyzing gaze. 

“They’re souls are worth more to Heaven and Hell than that of your brothers’ or any other’s for that matter.  I am sorry for what happened to him, he does not have an easy path to walk, but it is far less burdensome than Sam and Deans’,” Castiel rasped as Dick stood speechless. 

“And why, uhh, may I ask are they’re souls worth so much?” the Joker’s feral voice bounced off the warehouse walls.  Dick and Tim spun around crouched in a defensive stance, bo staff and escrima sticks held securely in their hands. 

“Now bird boys, there’s no need for that.  Although, where’s the big bad Bat, hmmm?” the Joker slinked out of the far shadows, knife twirling in his hand. 

The soft whisper of a cape was answer enough as Batman dropped down from the rafters, Robin quickly joining him on the concrete floor.  Jason startled the silence as the side door of the warehouse was kicked in and Red Hood’s helmet could be seen gleaming in the low moonlight. 

****  
Dean shifted where he was still leaning against the steel beam.  He willed feeling back into his limbs, at least the Joker had untied him after he killed Dean.  Dean could hear the Joker’s voice but he couldn’t see anything behind the mountain that was his brother and the other three equally immovable dark haired men.    

“Well, hi Sammy, it’s been a while,” Dean could hear the Joker’s smirk in the lilt of his voice.  Dean tensed, legs moving under him, that was his name for Sam.    

“It’s Sam”, Sam and Dean snapped reflexively causing the Joker to startle. 

Dean realized the Joker hadn’t been able to see him up until that point.  Nightwing and Red Robin shifted their stance as the Joker took a step closer, eyes trailing over Dean’s body.  Dean met the madman’s stare, green eyes clashing.  Judging by the clown’s wide untamed green eyes and his enthralled expression this wasn’t the outcome he had been expecting. 

“I, uhh, honestly didn’t believe you and yet, here you are,” the Joker hummed, captivated as Dean stepped forward next to his brother and Cas. 

“You honestly think death could stop me.  Man, sometimes I swear he’s rooting for me,” Dean’s smirk was cocky, eyes fierce. 

Dean was answered by the Joker’s own grin before the man lunged forward, Ruby’s knife poised to dig into Dean’s chest.  Sam’s gun and the Batman’s quick grab and quick snap of the Joker’s wrist holding the knife brought the man up short.  Ruby’s knife clattered to the ground where Cas leaned down to pick it up, tucking it up into his sleeve.  Batman threw the Joker back, the clown clutching his wrist and cackling madly, the sound bouncing off the walls of the warehouse.  Sam’s gun was still trained on the green haired man, steady and sure as the Joker caught sight of it and followed the length of Sam’s arm to his face.  Every ounce of Dean’s being wanted to step in between his little brother and the Joker. 

“I didn’t think I could stop you Dean.  I mean, why would I want to?” the Joker giggled, cradling his wrist to his chest. 

“Then what was that all about, why gut me?” Dean exclaimed, eyes searching the faces of those around him. 

“Confirmation,” the Joker hissed, scars contorting into a grimace.

“What do you mean?” Sam spoke up, voice smooth and controlled.

“This world’s going to burn no matter what you do Dean.  You said it yourself, you broke once, you never will again.  It got me to wondering, what do these so called angels want you to do?  It must be pretty awful if you always say ‘no’,” the Joker made a speculative noise as he tilted his head and studied Dean. 

“You know what happens to Sam, you know he kills me, Azazel never showed you why?” Dean couldn’t hide the disbelief in his voice. 

“They didn’t know, the demons, it was not information they were privy to until the Apocalypse started,” Cas spoke up, gravelly voice indisputable. 

“Okay, enough with the cryptic bullshit,” Red Hood snapped as he stepped forward stopping next to Cas. 

“One, the fucking Apocalypse are you shitting me.  Two, who started it and why did no one try to stop it?  Three, where does Gotham fall in all of this because I am not letting a bunch of fucking demons or angels for that matter run around my city,” Red Hood snarled and Dean flinched.  These men, these heroes did not ask to me involved in this, in the Winchester life. 

“We’ve been trying to stop it, it isn’t a guarantee yet,” Dean’s voice sounded weak even to his own ears. 

“As for who jump started it, that would be me,” Dean admitted, jaw tight.  The Joker’s manic laughter pierced through the air, suffocating Dean. 

“What the fuck, how?” Red Hood demanded, ignoring the sharp look Cas shot him.

“I broke, in Hell,” Dean confessed, lips drawn tight.

“You were there for forty years, getting tortured for forty years.  It’s not your fault,” Nightwing assurance set Dean’s teeth on edge.

“Thanks Sam,” Dean glared at his brother not surprised in the least Sam had let some things slip around Nightwing.    

“My garrison was in charge of getting the Righteous Man’s soul out of Hell.  We failed, we could not do it in time,” Cas spoke up, hand moving to cover the handprint on Dean’s shoulder. 

“The Righteous Man?” Red Robin asked, eyes darting between Dean and Cas.

“Yes, the Archangel Michael’s vessel, the body Michael will use to defeat Hell,” Cas confirmed with a nod, omitting some key points Dean noted. 

 Cas’ declaration was met by silent stares.  Dean could understand what Gotham’s heroes were thinking, hell, he had gone through it a few months back.  None of it sounded good, at least none of it sounded good for humanities sake.     

“So, big brother Dean here is Michael, daddy’s little warrior.  And you Sammy boy, who are you meant to be in this tragic tale?” the Joker’s sympathetic smile was contradicted by the patronizing tone; he knew full well Sam’s fate.    

Dean’s eyes flitted over to Sam.  Sam, whose face was a mask of cold, barely restrained fury.  Dean closed his eyes before he turned to look back at the Joker, the man he once called uncle.  That man was no longer there; the pieces that were left of him were the ones the Joker saw as useful, the training of a hunter.  Dean’s righteous green eyes locked on to the Joker’s chaotic ones.  The clown’s eyes widening minutely as they took in Dean’s expression.    

“Lucifer,” Sam stated as a gunshot echoed through the warehouse.  

The Joker stumbled forward, knees hitting the ground with a crack as red blossomed across his chest, the purple suit turning a deep burgundy.  Dean heard Sam click the safety back on before his brother tucked the gun into the back of his jeans.  The stillness that had a hold of everyone was shattered as Batman sprang forward ripping the material away from the bullet wound. 

“You just can’t let me go,” the Joker sneered, a satisfied grin stretched across his face as he turned his head toward Batman.

“You can’t place the blame on them Bats, you can’t even place the blame on a demon.  It was all you, you and Gotham in all your repulsive brilliance.  Gotham made me, Gotham needed me to save it from its own righteous justice,” the Joker’s voice was ragged as blood gurgled up past his lips.  The scars no longer needed the greasepaint in order to appear red.      

“You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that demon though.  You didn’t have to start killing, you didn’t have to lose your mind and let the darkness take hold,” Batman growled, refusing to give in to the madman’s logic and unknowingly echoing Dean’s earlier sentiments.    

“I couldn’t have stopped it.  It’s one of the things that happen, after there’s been someone else in your head.  You keep looking for that other voice, you start savagely clawing away at the silence until all the little voices come together and emerge from their repressed and haunted corners,” the Joker’s green eyes turned away from the Dark Knight and swept over Dean’s face before losing focus as his head lolled back, blood trickling down his chin.    

It wasn’t long until the Joker’s breathing ceased, body limp in the Dark Knight’s hold.  Dean heard a click and he glanced over to see Red Hood removing his helmet, a dazed expression on the young man’s face.  Nightwing approached the now helmetless vigilante, hands out stretched in a placating gesture.  Red Robin and Robin had moved to stand beside their mentor, whispering words Dean couldn’t hear. 

“So, you think you’re over your fear of clowns now?” Dean asked, giving his brother a cheeky shove.

“Seriously Dean,” Sam’s head whipped around to look at his brother, aghast.

“What?” Dean asked head cocked to the side, green eyes wide and guileless. 

“You were just dead, again! And I just killed our uncle, you know our last living family member and you have to make a joke,” Sam said in exasperation, hazel eyes admonishing Dean.

“Blood doesn’t make you family Sam,” Dean spoke softly.  The brothers’ eyes met over the body of the Joker.

“You’re right and family doesn’t end with blood,” Sam gave his brother a soft smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments or Kudos!


	9. EPILOGUE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, Sam just up and kills the Joker.
> 
> As always all mistakes are my own and I do not own these characters

**THE NEXT DAY**

They were standing outside the motel room Dean had rented earlier that week.  Sam watched as Dean tossed his duffle bag into the Impala, the darkness and street lights dancing shadows across her exterior.  Sam watched with a fond smile as Dean closed the trunk giving it a firm pat.  Sam barely startled as Nightwing emerged from the shadows and gave Sam a blinding white smile.    

“You saved your brother,” Nightwing assured Sam giving him an encouraging nudge. 

“Huh, yeah, unfortunately humans are easy to kill,” Sam grimaced in resignation.

“Joker was a monster Sam.  There was nothing left of the man who you could claim as family,” Nightwing said gripping Sam’s shoulder and turning to face the taller man. 

“Doesn’t make it any easier or better for that matter,” Sam sighed.

“Good.  That means you’re still far away from becoming like them, a monster,” Nightwing affirmed with a positive nod. 

Sam looked away, this guy seriously believed what he was telling Sam even though he knew what Sam might become, how he is supposed to end the world.  Nightwing must have sensed Sam’s thoughts because he gave the hunter a reassuring smile and stuck his hand out for Sam to take. 

“We all have the capability to do bad things Sam, it’s just whether we do them or not that matters,” Nightwing’s handshake was firm, his smile warm.  Sam smiled back in appreciation as he watched the hero disappear into the night. 

****

Dean smirked as he watched Nightwing slip away into the shadows.  These were good people here, people who understood the value of human life.  Dean however, did startle when a dark looming figure stepped out in front of him as he turned away from the trunk.  A small twitch of the lips let Dean know that his small squeal did not go unnoticed.  It was quiet for a moment, Dean was unsure of how the hero would act towards him after the Joker’s death.

“I told him the same thing,” Dean said after a moment, green eyes fixed on the Dark Knight, “that he didn’t have to let the madness consume him that he didn’t have to break.”

Batman’s sharp blue eyes roved over Dean’s face before he held out a piece of paper to the hunter.

“What’s this?” Dean asked as he looked at the set of numbers on the paper.

“Contact numbers for Red Hood,” Batman informed him.  Dean eyed the man quizzically and Batman sighed. 

“He has also had the unfortunate experience of coming back from the dead and having to crawl out of his own grave.  It has left him, well, I’m sure you know which is why I am giving you his contact information.  This case has shaken him and I think you can help him come to terms with what he’s been through, it could prove to be beneficial for you both in fact,” Batman disclosed, voice grim but determined.  The voice of a man who would do anything for those closest to him.

“I’ll do my best, but don’t expect any miracles.  Sometimes, sometimes even the most understanding person can’t fix you, especially if you don’t want it,” Dean stated, he needed Batman to understand this, the person he knew before the Red Hood was no longer in control. 

“I can't believe in miracles, in a God who looks down on us, dispensing his unfathomable brand of justice when and if he wills,” Batman nodded in consideration, voice dark and brooding. 

“I can, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit around and wait for a miracle or justice cause believe me, it’s never the kind you’re looking for,” Dean snorted, lips quirked.  Batman grunted, eyes sliding over to size up Dean.

“What?” Dean’s eyes narrowed at the Dark Knight.

“I figured that’s what you were, God’s justice, His Righteous Man, His Sword,” Batman smirked, Dean rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh.

“Yeah, well, we’re not so different in that aspect.  I just get the luxury of killing my monsters,” Dean nodded one last time to the Dark Knight, the hero in turn reached out and shook Dean’s hand before stealing off into the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments or Kudos!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments or Kudos!


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